


Awake.

by Lispet



Series: Unrelated Striders [4]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Loneliness, M/M, Pining, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 17:01:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7942222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lispet/pseuds/Lispet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Awake too soon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Awake.

It's no more than a gentle hand following my spine, a simple action, a soft gesture, but it's enough if he offers it. It makes my back arch and I squirm impatiently on the sheets, movements hindered by soft and unyielding leather. It's safe, I'm safe, I'm perfect, he said so. 

It's the quiet words of praise, feather light and so kind, I can hear the smile in his voice. That too is enough for me. Sometimes his breath is hot against my skin as he talks to me, talks into my mouth and against my bound wrists and shaking knees. I ache for every noise and wait with bated breath so I don't miss a sound. 

It's the smell of him, of the sheets, and the sweat and sometimes even the less pleasant things, like bile. That doesn't make it any less of an experience. A good experience, or a bad one. We learn and adapt and he always makes it alright in the end. Better than alright, whether I float back down or crash hard, he takes care of me. 

The salt on my tongue, from sweat and tears, the taste of his mouth and fingers and seed. And I love it all. I love it when he cooks, as well. He loves to experiment, loves to try new recipes and obscure ingredients and no matter how strange it seems he always makes something I end up liking. Sometimes, when I'm really tired or stressed, he gets takeout and tucks me in his lap or by his feet at the table to eat, and I feel like a kid, but I feel smaller and safer, and like he can handle anything. 

He looks so strong when he stands before me, he works hard and he's weathered it well. His smile is so captivating. It's far more thrilling when I can't see him though, I never know what he's planning or what he's going to do, how long he's going to make me wait. 

He's not making me wait now, it's been too long for both of us, when he goes away for work, for weeks, often a few months. We're both desperate and needy and we fell into bed before getting our shoes and socks off. We're scarcely any more undressed now, pressed chest to chest, I can feel him grin against my cheek when I gasp at his hand squeezing my ass as I fumble between us to get my hands on our cocks. It's a relief when I do, and I just want to rut against him until I leave a mess all over his hip, because I'm his and I'm desperate and he's so addictive. 

I'm more wound up than usual after the long wait, and it's hardly a dozen strokes, or it feels like it, I can't really remember, I’m drowning in his heady scent and so giddy from his stubble on my cheek and his hand on my neck and everything else, and I have to warn him in case he had plans to make this better. “Fuck, Jude I’m-” 

Awake. 

It feels like someone has dropped ice down my spine and I open my eyes to look across the bed at D. He seems to be sleeping peacefully, which I'm glad for. I know I can squirm a bit when I'm dreaming. 

I love D with everything I have. I don't know what I'd do without him, but I still feel lonely sometimes. 

I miss Jude, despite all the years between us. It's been more time without him than I got to spend with him, but how do you get over that? 

I'm desperate to finish, especially while the dream is still fresh in my mind, but it's not hard to pull up any one of countless memories. What's holding me back is D. It's not fair on him. That and I feel so painfully lonely that it hurts. I don't want to jerk off, because I want to curl up and feel someone else take care of me again, just for a little while, so I don't have to think about anything. Nothing to worry about. I miss that the most. 

I end up curling up as tightly as I can, face tucked tightly between the pillow and blanket. It smells like D and it feels all wrong and I'm so alone. 

A few tears leak out and I curl up tighter. I want to throw up, it feels like whatever will come up will be sludgy and dark, and foul smelling, but I'll be better off without it. 

My eyes have dried when D wakes, he stretches sleepily and yawns a little and relaxes, and smiles at me. “Good morning.” He says, voice like the sunrise, warm and soft and he's too good for me. 

“Mornin’.” I reply, voice husky and low, the moon setting, and he smiles at me as I shuffle closer and wrap my arms around him to hold him against me as he likes, tucked under my chin and snuggly against my chest. It's my turn to be the one who knows exactly what's going on, to be the carer and to be there when he needs it, and I can't let him down.

**Author's Note:**

> [Index here.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7510270)
> 
> Ongoing series, requests welcome and encouraged, any character, any point in the timeline.


End file.
